How We Got Here
by monkeyface52
Summary: 50 One-shots centered around George and Angelina with a nice smattering of Fred. For the 50 Art Of Words Challenge. My first HP fic, so please R&R. DH Spoilers.
1. 14 Envy

**A/N: So, this is my first HP fic, though I've read soooo many! It's some wonderful fluff and drama about George and Angelina for the 50 Art of Word Challenge. I love reviews like I love fanfic, so pleeeease tell me what you think! They're going to be short because, well, 50 is a lot!  
**

**And I own nothing Harry Potter. Wouldn't that be awesome if I did? But I don't...**

Envy

_Smack!_

"Ouch!" Fred yelled, grabbing and rubbing his head. He and George looked up to see an irate Angelina hovering over them.

"Bloody hell, Angelina? What did you do that for?" Fred asked, frowning as he rubbed his head.

"I warned you, Fred! I told you if you ever--"

"I'm not Fred. He is," Fred said, pointing at his brother. Before George had a chance to defend himself, Angelina slapped Fred on the head again – hard.

"Don't lie to me, Fred! Find someone else to help you with your Potions homework!"

"What did I do? And how do you know I even did it?"

Her eyes flicked to George for just a moment. "Because I know you and I know him and I know George would never stoop _that_ low." Raising up her hand one more time, Fred and George both cowered away. With a final death glare, she stormed out of the Common Room.

Once she was gone, George looked his brother with wide eyes. "Blimey, Fred! What did you do?"

"I honestly can't remember. But whatever it was, she's probably right." Fred shrugged, turning his attention back to the order forms he was working on. His hand rose to his red head once more and he began rubbing again. "That girl can really hit."

George glanced at the stairway where Angelina had disappeared, feeling something strange.

She didn't think he would stoop that low? It should have been a compliment, George knew. But, as he glanced over at Fred still rubbing his sore head, he didn't feel pride rising up. It was more like envy.

She didn't think he would stoop that low?

If it got him the kind of attention she just unleashed on Fred, maybe he should.

**End Note: Well, how was it for a first try? Tell me what you think!**


	2. 49 Island

**A/N: **"No man is an island, entire of itself…any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind…" – John Donne

Island

He'd never been so lonely in his life.

Fred's death left a gigantic, gaping hole in is soul and George knew he would never be the same – not even close. It was hard to loose a friend. Even harder to loose a brother. But a twin? No one could even begin to comprehend the hurt.

And that's what made the loneliness even worse. Nobody wanted to talk about Fred when George was around. They all looked at him with tear filled eyes and sad smiles, trying to be strong for his sake. After all, he'd lost his twin brother.

Some people wouldn't look at him at all, avoiding him. They didn't know what to say. After all, he'd lost his twin brother.

But sometimes, it made him feel like he was the only one who missed Fred. He knew they probably all talked about it when he wasn't around. But George felt like a freak – and not just because of the one ear thing. He felt like a freak and he felt totally alone.

Even his own mother. George would hear her in the kitchen, sniffling and crying. Sometimes he'd just stand there, unnoticed, and listen to her, actually glad she was crying. Glad because he knew he wasn't the only one who hurt so bad that the tears wouldn't stop. But then she'd turn around, those mother eyes in the back of her head knowing he was there, wipe away her tears, smile, and ask him if he wanted something to eat.

Then he would be lonely again. If she kept it up, he'd soon be lonely and fat.

It was two weeks after the funeral. As he'd done every day since they buried his brother, he was kneeling at Fred's tombstone, wondering when the hurting would subside enough that he could breath again.

He heard a twig snap behind him, but didn't bother to turn. Probably a squirrel or something. But, half a minute later, he heard soft footsteps on the cold ground behind him, after which a warm body came and sat to his side. Still not turning, he saw who it was out the of the corner of his eye.

After a full moment of silence, Angelina spoke in barely a whisper. "I can leave if you want to be alone."

"It doesn't matter," he muttered, knowing he couldn't feel more alone than he already did.

He didn't know how long they sat there, neither of them talking, staring at the gray granite that commemorated Fred's life and death.

Angelina sniffled. From cold. From sad. It didn't matter. She sniffled and she didn't try and hide it.

The next thing George knew, her head was on his shoulder and soft, shuddering sobs were racking her body. Feeling stiff and awkward, George tentatively wrapped his arms around her shoulder.

"I just…I just miss him so much," she whispered as she buried her face into his shoulder.

George didn't say anything. He just held her, letting her cry.

Leaning his head down on hers, he finally said in a low, quiet voice, "Me too."


	3. 30 Stranger

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I really appreciate it! Hope you like this one - I really wanted to get some of that fast paced Fred and George speak that makes them just so, well, Fred and George!**

Stranger

She was staring out the window at the crowded platform, mind in a completely different place, when the door to her compartment crashed open and one – no two – tall, skinny, red-headed boys flew in.

"D' you think he saw us?"

"He always sees us."

"It's kind of scary."

"Quite scary."

"So why do we get away so much?"

"Because he's not very fast."

Angelina cleared her throat, annoyed at both the interruption of her solitude and of being ignored.

They jumped, turning around at the same time. She came face to face with two identical boys with cocky smiles and a mischievous glint in their eyes.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Instead of answering, the two boys looked at each other.

"This will be perfect."

"Absolutely."

"Couldn't be better."

"Not a bit."

The boy who'd rushed in first, but always spoke second, flopped down on the seat across from Angelina while the other boy continued to look out the window of the compartment door.

"Can we ask you a favor?"

Angelina crossed her arms, looking the boy up and down. His clothes didn't look new. Rather, they looked warm and home-made. The shoes peaking out from his too-short pants looked worn and caked with dirt and adventure. But he did have a nice smile. It was so…happy.

"Why should I do a favor for a complete stranger?" She glanced at the back of the other boy. "Make that two complete strangers."

He smiled again, that bright white smile that made her want to smile too. "Sorry, how rude of me. I'm George. George Weasley. This is my brother, Fred."

At this, Fred turned around, tipping his head slightly with that same smile.

"What's your name?" George asked.

Angelina frowned at this. He could have no idea what she'd been brooding about before they burst in, but still.

"Angelina," she finally said after a moment. It left a bad taste in her mouth. All through the summer holiday, she'd been subject to her older cousins and their unceasing teasing, making fun of her hair, her clothes, and worse, her name. She couldn't help it that she was tall for a twelve year old.

A-Giant-lina they called her for three miserable months. She'd debated changing her name, maybe going by Angie or something else. But she was about to start her second year at Hogwarts and everyone already knew her as Angelina.

George sat back and smiled again. "Angelina. That's a very pretty name."

She couldn't hide her shock. "It is?"

"Oh yes. Suits you well. Isn't that right, Fred?"

"If George says it's right, it's right," Fred responded.

George opened his mouth to say something else when Fred jumped back.

"Quick, here he comes!" Fred slid into the seat beside George and the two laced their hands behind their red heads.

At that instance, the compartment door flew open once more and a red-headed, red faced boy burst in.

"You bewitched my socks to make them pink!" he seethed, hands on his hips.

George and Fred put on the face of innocence. "Us?" they said at the same time.

"_And_ they squeak!" the older boy hissed through clenched teeth.

"You must be mistaken –"

"It couldn't have been us –"

"We've been here the whole time."

"Right, Angelina?" The last question was said by George and, for a moment, she stared into the twinkling eyes of the boy who said her name was pretty.

"Right, George," she replied with a smile.

The smile they both gave her was priceless.

Once Percy had huffed away, the two stood up again.

"We'd better go. He still hasn't seen what we did to his trunk," Fred said, pulling the door open.

George turned back to Angelina. "Nice to meet you, Angelina. Don't be a stranger." With a wink, he followed his brother out.

Angelina leaned back against her seat, a small smile creeping to her face.

"I won't be," she whispered to no on in particular.


	4. 43 Skirt

**A/N: So I just couldn't bring myself to write another sad post DH one quite yet. This one is fluff through and though, so I hope you like it. Please review, it means so much! 4 chapters in 4 days...woo-hoo!**

Skirt

_Whoever thought white would be a comforting color for hospital patients obviously never had to stay in a room for more than five minutes_ Angelina thought impatiently as she stared at the blank white ceiling.

The door to her room at St. Mungo's opened and Angelina sat up excitedly, hoping it was a nurse ready to discharge her. Her smile fell as soon as she saw red hair.

"Oh. Hello," Angelina greeted, looking down.

"Don't look too excited to see me," Ginny laughed, crossing her arms and walking all the way in.

"Sorry. I was just hoping I'd be getting out of here soon." When Angelina looked back up, she could tell Ginny was trying hard not to laugh. "Ginny –"

"Sorry!" Ginny said, snickering. "It's just…it _is_ pretty funny. I mean, enchanted Pumpkin Pasties that give you the hiccups when you come close to scoring…quite brilliant, if you ask me."

"You weren't the one who nearly flew off their broom in front of thousands of fans, were you? I'll be the laughing stock of the Chudley Cannons," Angelina replied darkly, sulking.

"When do you think you'll get out of here?"

Before Angelina could respond, she hiccupped. This made Ginny laugh even more and even Angelina couldn't help but smile.

"Anyway," Ginny said once she calmed down. "I was on my way to see Luna and thought I'd see how you're doing."

"Or to laugh at me."

Ginny shrugged, a delighted smile on her face as she backed toward the door. While Angelina was quite a few years older than Ginny, they'd seen plenty of each other as of late due to Ginny's being a reserve for the Wimbourne Wasps. And, of course, because she was George's sister.

"Say," she said with her hand on the door. "Did you hear Hermione is pregnant?"

"Is she now? And how is Ron doing with that?"

"He's a perfect mess," Ginny said, chuckling.

"Nervous about being a dad, is he?"

"I think so. But it's hard to tell. Ron is such a skirter."

Angelina's face screwed up in confusion. "You mean…he likes to dress in drag?"

Ginny laughed again. "No! A skirter! You know, he likes to skirt around issues. He's not the best about talking about feelings, you know? Like how he skirted around his feelings for Hermione for forever, never willing to open up and talk about it even though he was mad about her." Ginny got a sly look on her face. "You know…_all_ Weasley men are infamous for being skirters."

Angelina felt her face heat up at what Ginny was suggesting, but just forced herself to smile. Just as she did, the door opened once more and another red head poked itself in. If Angelina's face was hot before, it was on fire now.

"I've brought you some Pumpkin Pasties," George said, grinning. "I hear they're your new favorite."

Ginny laughed and Angelina rolled her eyes.

"See you George. Bye Angelina," Ginny said, winking at the latter.

"I've warned you about the dangers of sweets, Angelina. You should have listened to me."

Angelina smiled, noticing George's hands were behind his back. She craned her neck to try and see what he was holding. "If you didn't bring me sweets, what have you got there?"

With a dramatic bow that was so him, George swung his hands around and presented Angelina with a bouquet of daisies that had been enchanted to flash the Cannon colors.

"Thank you, George!" she exclaimed, taking them from his hands.

"Well…you know. Just…being a friend," he said, suddenly seeming much less confident that his usual self.

Angelina looked up at his freckled face and swallowed. "George…" She waited until he met her gaze her. She felt her pulse speed up. "You…you aren't a skirter, are you?"

George took a step back, looking confused. "D' you mean like dressing in drag?"

Rolling her eyes, Angelina chuckled. "Never mind."


	5. 25 Arse

**A/N:** "Let's get emotional girls to all wear mood rings. Then we'll be tipped off to when they're ticked off." – Mood Ring by Relient K

**Special thanks to CINROC for reviewing every chapter! You rock!!**

Arse

_Squish, squish, squish._

George looked up at the strange noise to catch sight of his brother, caked head to toe in wet, slimy mud.

"Trying out a new beauty treatment, Fred?" George asked, barely able to hold in his laughter.

"Bugger off," Fred mumbled, squishing over to his bed.

"Taking mud baths? I mean, I know you've always wanted to look more like me—"

"It was Angelina, if you must know," Fred sighed. He pulled out his wand and shook off a few globs of mud. Pointing it at himself, he mumbled a half hearted _'Scorgify_,' which only served to dry the mud into layers of flaky dirt. Rolling his eyes, Fred began wiping at the dirt, causing it to fly off in dusty clouds.

"What about Angelina?" George asked, approaching his brother. He started wiping at the filthy robes as well.

"She went all mental on me, called me an arse, and pushed me in the mud!" Fred shouted.

George cocked an eyebrow. "And you did _nothing_ to deserve this?"

"No! For the love of Merlin, no! We were walking outside, having a nice chat about the brilliant Quidditch match we all listened to last night. Then I told her what a great chaser she is and how she could go pro someday and she pushed me!"

George stood up, crossing his arms. "Really? That was all?"

"Yes!" Fred exclaimed, giving up on the dirt and flopping onto his bed. "I mean, all I said was 'You're great to play with, Johnson. You're just like one of the guys.'"

George rolled his eyes, flopping down beside his brother. "Fred…you really are an arse."

"What?!"

"No girl wants to hear that she's like one of the guys."

"But this is Angelina we're talking about. She's one of our best mates!"

George stood up, pacing in front of his brother. "Exactly. She's one of our best mates and she's better than us at Quidditch – well, better than you, anyway – but she's also a girl. She wants to know that you know that, too." As George thought about Angelina, he couldn't help but smile. "I mean, she's so pretty. And she's one of the smartest girls we know. Not to mention she's a lot of fun and can always take a good joke—"

"Suppose I ask her to the Yule Ball, then."

That snapped George back to attention. "What?"

"Yeah." Fred stood up. "If I'm supposed to show Angelina I think she's a girl, I'll ask her to the Yule Ball. That should fix everything."

"W-Well I don't know if you need to go that far. You could just—"

But Fred cut him off, patting him on the shoulder. "Brilliant idea, George. I never would have thought of it. Thanks!"

Fred started shrugging off his dirty robes as George stood there, mentally kicking himself.

_Whose the arse now?_ he thought.


	6. 7 Hat

**A/N:** Wow! A big shout out to **Flameonurass-TruSC** and **friendsqueen216 **for reviewing all the chapters! Thanks so much to all of who you read and review. It means so much!! All that to say…

Hat

"You need a haircut."

George looked up at Angelina, who was studying him with a serious expression.

He leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head. "And here I thought you just invited me out for a nice lunch. Now I see it's an intervention. Did my mum put you up to this?"

She rolled her eyes, smirking. "You're starting to look like a girl, George."

He pretended to be offended. "Maybe I'm trying to cover up the blaring hole in the side of my head where my ear is supposed to be. Did you ever think of that?"

"No, you're not."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do," she grinned.

He shook his head, unable to hide his smile.

Biting her lip, Angelina reached across the table and began running her fingers through his hair. "I can do it myself, you know. I'm rather good."

Without thinking, George closed his eyes at the sensation of her fingers through his hair, his smile turning slightly dreamy. It felt…

"No," he practically shouted, snapping his eyes open and jerking his head away from her hand.

She pulled back quickly, looking confused and slightly hurt.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's fine," George mumbled, looking away. He stood up, grabbing a few Sickles out of his pocket and tossing them on the table. "I need to get back to work."

"George, I really didn't mean—"

"It's fine," he repeated, still not looking at her. Ice cold butterbeer mixed with hot painful guilt was a bad combination. "I'll just wear a hat," he rushed before turning and hurrying away.


	7. 1 Sail

**A/N:** Gosh, these are fun! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying them because I am sure loving writing them! Hope you like this one and I looooove me some reviews!

Sail

"Angelina."

The voice floated on a cloud, brining a smile to her face.

"Angelina, wake up," he said again.

"Five more minutes, George." Cracking open her eyes, she saw him smile.

"How did you know it was me? Even our mum can't tell us apart by our voices."

"Fred would have said something like, 'Oi! Johnson! Watch out for that bludger!' or something else to make me scream and jump."

Laughing, he helped her up. Swaying slightly, Angelina leaned against him as they headed toward the stairs leading to the dorms.

"I was having the most wonderful dream," she sighed.

"I didn't know _History of Magic_ essays could do that to you."

"I was sailing. With Fred. It was fun," she smiled, eyes half closed.

"I hope you dreamed him with a green face because you've never seen anyone get so sick sea sick as Fred."

Now at the bottom of the stairs, she glanced at him, cocking an eyebrow. "And you don't?"

He shrugged. "Not as bad, anyway."

"Of course."

"Of course."

"Night, George."

"Night, Angelina."

The next morning, Angelina came down to the common room early to gather up the school things she'd left behind. Sitting on top of her history of magic book was a silly boat-looking object made of Pumpkin Pasties, marshmallows, and toothpicks. Grinning, she hurried over to it, taking it gently in her hands.

On the deck of the boat were two Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans – one cinnamon, one chocolate.

"For sweet dreams," Fred spoke up, his head suddenly behind her.

"Thanks, Fred," she said, reaching behind to muss his hair.

He hopped up, hurrying off toward the Fat Lady. Angelina stood, noticing George following behind his brother.

She ran forward, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"Thanks, George," she whispered in his ear.

He lifted his hand, then lowered it back down as if not sure what to do. Finally, he reached up and patted her arm in a friendly way.

She let go and he walked off.

Smiling, she closed her eyes, excited to dream about sailing with George again.

Wait, Fred.

Sailing with Fred.

That's what she meant.


	8. 47 Phenomenon

**A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews. FYI if there's anything you've been DYING to see in a George/Angelina story, let me know and I'll see if I can work it in!**

**This one is a tad longer than the rest, but will tie into one later on ;)**

Phenomenon

"Angelina!"

She heard her name and froze. _Merlin! Not here! Not now!_ she thought. Turning ever so slightly, she glanced behind her and, through the crowded sidewalk of Diagon Alley, she caught a glimpse of the all too familiar red hair.

Gasping, she spun back around and began shoving and pushing her way through the crowd, hurrying away.

"Angelina!" he called again, causing her to cringe.

"No, no, no!" she mumbled to herself, trying to move even faster. A hand grabbed her shoulder, causing her to shriek and turn around, wide eyed.

"Blimey, Angelina!" he said with a smile. "Didn't you hear me calling your name?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. She just stared at him, shaking.

"You look like you've seen a gho—," he stopped short, his smile falling.

It was at that moment that Angelina realized her mistake. "George," she sighed in relief. He looked down and Angelina felt beyond awful. "I'm sorry, George. It's just—"

"No worries," he mumbled. "I mean, we are twins and all...I mean, were."

Sorrow gripping her heart, she grabbed George by the shoulder and led him to the side of the nearest building to get out of the crowd.

"Really, George. I'm so sorry. It's just…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

George glanced up, uncertainty in his eyes. "Just what?"

"I…I think Fred might be…haunting me."

George's eyes opened wide. She waited for him to answer, but ended up hitting him when she saw that he was about to laugh.

"It's not funny!"

"Sorry," George laughed, trying to get a hold of himself. "It's just, after all our time at Hogwarts, after knowing ghosts personally, I would think you would know better than to think things like that! Has he been floating around your flat, then? Turning your socks inside out and hiding your knickers?"

She hit him again, still not smiling. "I'm serious George!"

When he looked in her face, he finally stopped laughing. "What is it, then?"

Angelina leaned against the cool brick, shaking her head. "Every night, I go to bed, and I get the strangest feeling that someone is – there. I open my eyes and there he is, right at the foot of my bed, real as life and just – staring at me."

All laughter gone from his eyes, George put a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry, Angelina. Sounds like a pretty bad dream."

"But it's so much more real!" she cried, unexpected tears forming in her eyes. "I can smell him. I can hear him breathing." She shuddered. "I pull the covers over my head but I can feel him still there. I can't sleep anymore, George. I'm afraid."

George didn't say anything for a minute, just rubbed her shoulder. "Can't have you being afraid of Fred, now, can we," he finally whispered.

She looked up at him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes for the first time, and had a feeling that she wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping. "What do you do, George?"

He shrugged. "I talk to him."

She couldn't hide her surprise. "T-Talk to him?"

"When I see him in my dreams. It kept happening, kind of like you. He'd be there and, well, one night I got so frustrated, I just starting yelling at him."

"Yelling at him?"

"Yeah. I told him, 'Listen, ghost Fred. I'm launching a new gag teddy bear tomorrow that transforms into a spider with the push of a button and I can't handle you staring at me like that.' And then he smiled at me and said, 'Ron is going to love that, isn't he?'"

George had a sad smile on his face at that time and Angelina smiled as well.

"And?"

"And we talked all night." He sighed. "I know it's hard Angelina. But you know he's no ghost." He paused, looking down again. "Sometimes I think it would be easier if he was. But don't let dreams of Fred scare you." He looked up at her again. "That would break his heart, you know."

She nodded, taking what he said to heart.

That night, Angelina lay in bed and that strange feeling of someone standing there crept over her again. Opening her eyes, she saw him, standing there, staring. Everything in her wanted to hide, to avoid missing him, crying for him yet again. But, remembering what George said, she sat up straight and offered a weak smile.

"Hello, Fred," she whispered.

He smiled.

And, for the first night since Fred Weasley died, Angelina slept through the night.


	9. 26 Book

**A/N: A temporary lapse in sanity made me imply that Angelina was one year older than the twins in 'Stranger.' Please forgive my mistake! From this point on, they are the same year.**

**This one takes place during their second year – you know, that weird time where girls like boys and boys think they don't like girls…but they do…**

Book

Fred elbowed George when they walked into History of Magic, but there was no need. He'd seen it too. Angelina Johnson, sitting by herself, doodling in the front of her History of Magic book with a dreamy smile on her face.

Identical grins on their faces, they strode to her table, simultaneously plopping down on either side of her.

"Hello Angelina," George said as she turned to him and gasped, quickly shutting her book. But not quick enough.

Fred, a triumphant look on his face, had caught a glimpse. "George! There was a heart! And the letter W!"

As she turned to yell at Fred, George made a swipe for her book, but she snatched it from his and stood up, looking beyond angry.

Fred and George just smiled at her.

"I reckon Angelina fancies you, George _Weasley_," Fred said, still looking at her.

"Or you, Fred _Weasley_. You are quite dashing."

"Thank you, George _Weasley_."

"You're welcome, Fred _Weasley_."

Angelina, looking like she might explode, said nothing but just turned around and moved to the back of the room.

Laughing, they turned back to the front.

As class began, George's mind began to turn. Did Angelina really fancy one of them? Lee would kill them if he found out. If she did fancy one of them, which one? Not that it mattered. He and Fred were too busy for girls.

"I hope it's you," Fred whispered to George, interrupting George's thoughts but, of course, being on the same page. "What with Quidditch, I don't have time for that kind of thing."

"I play too, you know! Besides, Angelina is a friend and that would just make things weird," George whispered back.

Fred paused. "So you don't fancy her, then?"

George paused. "Why, do you?"

Professor Binns floated past at that moment, causing them both to stop talking.

Once class was over, Angelina caught them right outside the door.

"Listen," she hissed, her eyes narrowed. She pointed a finger in Fred's face, then George's, causing them both to back up. "You arrogant pricks aren't the only W's in the school." Giving one final death glare, she stormed off.

Exchanging a confused look, both boys chuckled uneasily.

"Like we care," Fred and George called after her.

Stepping into the hall, they ran right into Oliver Wood.

"Sorry gents," Oliver said, readjusting his books and hurrying past with a smile.

Neither Fred or George said anything for a minute, just staring after the older boy as he rushed away.

"You don't think--," George began.

"No," Fred said decidedly. "No way."

They both looked at each other, speaking at the same time. "Not that it matters."

**End Note: Not to beg, but I really, really, REALLY like reviews...but I'm not begging...just saying...**


	10. 44 Dispute

**A/N: So, yeah, I know this is two chapters in one day, but when you're writing 50, can you really post too much at once?**

**Post DH (in case you haven't yet picked up on the pattern for how I write these…)**

Dispute

"Come on, George. You know you want to."

George looked into Angelina's brown eyes, swallowing hard. Of course he wanted to. She had no idea how much he wanted to.

But that didn't make it right.

"Angelina," he sighed. "I…I just don't think I'm comfortable with it."

She rolled her eyes. "Never did I think they day would come that I would have to talk a Weasley into something." Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head to the side. "Is it me?"

"What?"

"You want to, you just don't want to do it with me."

"That's not—"

"Because of Fred, am I right?"

He sighed again, closing his eyes. "Of course, because of Fred."

Without warning, she slapped him hard on the arm. "You git! Who else would Fred want me to do this with?"

"You don't think it's kind of weird?"

"What is kind of weird?"

Frustrated, George threw his hand in the air. "This! You and me! Together like this! I mean, you and Fred used to—"

"Used to, George. Fred isn't here anymore." She took a step closer to him, making George swallow again as he looked into her eyes. "I think he would want this."

He wanted to. He'd always wanted to, since they were at Hogwarts. He just didn't know if he had it in him.

Sensing his hesitation, she stepped back again, looking slightly angry. "Fine. Would you rather it be Alicia, then?"

"No, Angelina."

"How about Lee? Want me to call Lee?"

George didn't say anything to that one. Watching her passion, he couldn't help but smile. "Fine, but this is the only time. And if you call me Fred—"

"I won't. I've never gotten the two of you mixed up."

Smiling at one another, they took a step forward, slowing grabbing hands.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded, his heart beating fast. "Ready."

And with that, George and Angelina took off to ring the doorbell of the Shrieking Shack.


	11. 17 Except

**A/N: Glad so many people liked the last one. I thought I was being too obvious in my mis-leading, but apparently not! :)**

**This one is the second part of 'Book' so make sure you've read it before reading this one. Enjoy! It's short and, well, as girlie as it gets!  
**

Except

"You did _what!?_" Alicia exclaimed, flopping down on the Common Room sofa beside Angelina.

Angelina shrugged. "I told them there were other W's in the school. Those two needed a little cutting down, anyway."

"Maybe they think it's Oliver," Katie said, her wide smile matching her twinkling eyes.

"Or Percy," Alicia added, causing them all to gag.

Alicia stopped laughing first. "So…which one is it, then?"

"Which one is what?" Angelina asked.

"Don't play dumb. Which Weasley was the W for? Fred or George?"

Angelina looked down and began playing with the edges of her book, feeling her face heat up.

"I'm quite partial to Fred," Katie spoke up, sitting excitedly on the edge of her seat. "He's a bit wilder, don't you think? And he always looks like he's up to something."

"He _is_ always up to something," Angelina added.

"I dunno. I kind of like George," Alicia sighed, a dreamy smile coming to her face. "He's a lot of fun, but seems a bit gentler. Like if you really wanted to sit down and talk with him, you could."

"Yeah, but Fred is always good for a laugh. He always knows what to say to make you smile."

"But George knows where to draw the line. Plus, I think he's a bit better looking."

"No way! Fred is the cuter one by far!"

Back and forth Alicia and Katie argued over which twin they thought was better.

Angelina simply sat, staring down at her book, picturing the silly little W she'd drawn that day.

Of course she was partial to on the twins! How could you not be. They were both so fun and funny and cute.

She knew she fancied one of them.

Except she didn't quite know which one…

**A/N: Okay, I hope I don't get any flames about how she would have to like one or the other. Let's face it – what 12 year old girl likes ONE boy exclusively? Even if they weren't twins, I'll bet Angelina would have a hard time deciding…that's just life at that age!**


	12. 15 Process

**A/N: The Five Stages of Grief – Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance**

Process

She knew what everyone said. That it was all normal, all part of the process.

They said it was normal that when she saw his body lying there, unmoving, still as a statue, she convinced herself that he was just sleeping. That smirk on his face – he was going to wake up at any minute, laughing at their tears and grief. They said it was normal that she was in denial.

They said it was normal when she flipped out in her apartment, smashing everything that reminded her of him. The trinkets, the gifts, the pictures. She yelled out curses at him, saying he was a selfish prick for dying and leaving her all alone. They said her anger and rage were normal.

They said it was normal when she spent her nights pleading with God or Merlin or whoever was in charge of the crummy universe to give him back for just one day, just one moment so she could say a proper goodbye. She'd become a nun, give all her money to charity, anything! And she was totally serious, too. Just one moment. They said making ridiculous bargains was normal.

They said it was normal when she didn't eat for a day, a week, half a month. It was summer, but the sun didn't shine anymore. She didn't cry. She just sat, gray, full of sorrow, wishing she could have died too. Living didn't seem worth it anymore. They said the bloody depression was normal.

They said it was normal when she went back to work. When she went out to lunch with Alicia and Katie and actually smiled, even laughed a little. When she could walk by the shop and actually look at the door without bursting into tears. She no longer woke up crying, reaching out for someone who wasn't there. They said moving on, learning to accept the truth, was normal.

It was all part of the process, they told her. Steps everyone went through.

But there was one step they didn't talk about, that no one else seemed to be going through.

Well, maybe one other person.

Someone with cinnamon hair, freckles, and an all too familiar smile.

Someone she enjoyed being with far more than she should.

What step was guilt?


	13. 40 Salad

**A/N: I know, I know, two straight in a row again! But I couldn't help it! As soon as I posted the last one, this one popped into my head. Still kind of serious, so I hope you like it!**

**Takes place during OotP (which is pretty obvious as you read)**

Salad

"She's going to kill you."

"I know, George."

"No, I mean she's _actually_ going to kill you. Like get sent to Azkaban kill you!"

"I know, George! But what else are we supposed to do?"

The brothers both sighed, looking at each other.

"You're right," George finally resolved.

Fred was silent for a minute. Slowly, he looked up at George, his eyes wide. George, always able to read his brother's thoughts, began shaking his head adamantly.

"No, Fred. You can't!"

"Yes, I can!"

"You can't ask Angelina to marry you!"

Fred tilted his head to the side, studying his brother. "And why not?"

Nervously, George licked his lips. He had a million reasons why not, the majority of them completely selfish things he would never say to his brother because then Fred would kill _him_. But none of those would do. "We haven't even started the shop yet. You can't support a wife!"

"Mum and dad don't have much and they've done all right."

"Dad has a job! A house! They have enough to put food on the table! What are you going to do? Eat salad every night?"

But the light in Fred's eyes didn't dim. He seemed to grow more excited. "But salad every night is better than nothing at all! We'll fly off in the greatest exit this school has ever seen and she'll be smiling, knowing that we're going to be eating salad together for the rest of our lives!"

George shook his head again. He hated when Fred got like this. There was no reasoning him. Especially when it came to Angelina.

"Fred," he finally said. "Angelina deserves more than salad."

The light dimmed and George felt awful. As much as it ate him up inside that Angelina had picked Fred over him, he couldn't deny that they were happy together. And, for the two people he cared about the most in the world, that was all he could ask for, even if it was killing him.

"Anyway," George said, reaching out a hand to pat Fred's shoulder, "what's the hurry? She's still going to finish school, we'll get the shop going, get all this mess with You Know Who sorted out." Here, he paused, swallowing the lump that formed at what he was going to say next. "And then you guys can start the life I'm sure you both want. You've got plenty of time, though."

Fred nodded slowly, staring hard at his brother. "She does deserve more than salad, you know."

"She doesn't even like salad."

Fred chuckled, reaching up and squeezing his brother's hand. "I've got plenty of time."

"Loads."

"She's still going to kill me."

"I know." Despite the churning in his gut at the thought of Fred and Angelina's future together, George smiled. "I'll say something nice at your funeral."

**End Note: Please review and tell me what you think!**


	14. 6 Perspective

**A/N: I needed a bit of a pick me up since the last two were a bit angsty. Hope you like it! This one takes place around the same time as 'Skirt'**

**And I can't believe I haven't thrown Ron in at all! He's my third fave Weasley! **

Perspective

George watched his brother pace back and forth in front of him, trying not to laugh. Though Ron left the shop when he began auror training, he still stopped every once in a while just to chat since they'd grown so much closer over the years.

But Ron would always be Ron and he was having a very Ron like moment.

"Are you going to buy me a new rug when you wear this one through?" George asked with a chuckle.

Ron stopped, looking down as though noticing his pacing for the first time. Slowly he shook his head. "I'm going to be a dad."

"That's usually what happens when you get your wife pregnant, you know."

"I'm not ready to be a dad," he whispered with a squeaky voice, eyes wide.

George just laughed, leaning back in his chair and throwing his feet on his desk. Suddenly, Ron rushed over, leaning forward with a wild look in his eyes.

"You've got to make me a promise! If anything happens to me, you need to take care of Hermione and the baby."

George's feet fell of the desk and his chair landed back down with a loud _clunk!_ "What? A-Are you mad?"

"I'm just saying, George. We've seen so much tragedy over the years, you never know what can happen. I need to know that my wife and child will be taken care of."

"Why are you talking like this, Ron?"

"I just…I just need to know, okay? Can you promise me that?"

George started to open his mouth, then shook his head.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

Shrugging, George said with no shame, "There's no way I could marry Hermione. She's too bossy and loud and opinionated and—"

"Watch it, George."

He laughed again. "Right. Well, she's not for me and I refuse to marry unless I'm in love."

Ron stood up again, crossing his arms with a smirk on his face. "Never would have taken you for such a romantic."

George narrowed his eyes, looking very serious. "I'm a man of untold mysteries," he said in a low, dramatic voice.

Ron thought for a moment, then said, "Suppose you _did_ fall in love with her. What about then?"

"Not happening, brother."

"But what if it did?"

"It wouldn't."

"But what if it did?"

"It wouldn't."

"But what if—"

"Ron!"

"Come on, George," Ron pleaded. "Just think about it. What if, Merlin forbid, I were to die and you somehow miraculously fell in love with Hermione. Would you marry her, knowing it's exactly what I would have wanted for all of you?"

George closed his eyes, rubbing them at the ridiculousness of the situation. Finally, he said, "I suppose, Ron. If that would make you happy."

Ron smiled. "So you would marry your brother's ex if you fell in love with her, _ knowing_ that it is _exactly_ what he would have wanted?"

George sighed, standing up. "I just told you, Ron! I would marry that bushy haired, beaver toothed—"

"I didn't say I was talking about Hermione this time," Ron interrupted, a sly grin on his face.

George's jaw dropped in shock. "What are you saying, Ron?"

Ron shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the door. "Nothing. Just…giving you a little perspective."

**End Note: "I'm a man of untold mysteries" is a line from the show Psych. So, if that made you laugh, thank Steve Franks - not me!**


	15. 16 Inevitable

Inevitable

Alicia ran into their dorm room, squealing and jumping up and down. "You'll never guess what just happened!" she rushed, still jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

"Snape's head explode?" Angelina asked.

"No! George just asked me to the Yule Ball!"

Angelina's jaw dropped. She tried to say something, but nothing would come. Slowly, Alicia stopped jumping, her smile melting.

"What? Aren't you happy for me? Now we get to go together."

"Oh!" Angelina said, shaking her head and forcing herself to smile. "Um, of course I'm happy. Just…surprised, that's all."

Alicia frowned. "Why are you surprised?"

Again, Angelina found herself at a loss for words. Why _was _she surprised?

Alicia's frown morphed into a look of anger as she crossed her arms. "Why is it such a surprise that a Weasley twin would ask _me_ to the Yule Ball? Did you think you would go with both of them?"

"No, Alicia! I—"

"You know, Angelina, you aren't the only girl in the world. Just because you can't decide between the two of them doesn't mean that they both need to sit around, waiting for you to make up your mind."

Angelina stood up, looking angry as well. She stepped close to her friend. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Alicia didn't back down but spoke in a low voice. "You know exactly what it means. Sooner or later you have to make a choice. You can't have them both, you know."

With a final glare, Alicia spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Angelina sat back on her bed, totally shocked both at the fight and what Alicia had implied.

She wasn't stringing Fred and George along, trying to decide between the two of them. If she was, she wouldn't have been so excited when Fred asked her to the dance.

Truth be told, she'd gone back and forth countless times over the years with her feelings for Fred and George. They were both so wonderful and cute and…well, they were twins after all and seemed to share a brain more often than not.

Secretly, she'd always hoped at least _one_ of them might fancy her – then it would make up her mind for her. And then Fred asked her to the Yule Ball, which seemed totally perfect.

So it only made sense that George would ask somebody else. Because it wasn't like she could have them both.

So she should be happy that George asked Alicia. And, unlike Angelina, Alicia had always fancied George over Fred.

It seemed perfect, then. George obviously didn't want to ask her, since Fred asked her first. Of course he would get a date. And she already had a date, so it shouldn't bother her.

But, for some reason that she couldn't explain and she didn't want to think about, it did.

Sooner or later, she was going to have to get over one of them.

Now she knew which one.


	16. 36 Whole

**A/N: Thanks again to all you faithful reviewers – and those of you who have just jumped on board! I feel like I'm writing for all of you, so thanks (:**

**A little play on words in this one, so I hope you like it!**

Whole

She didn't want to do this.

Everyone thought it was because she was depressed, which she was. She'd been more withdrawn, very unlike herself. But that wasn't why.

How did they except her to go and spend time with someone who looked _exactly_ like Fred? It was like some cruel, sadistic joke and she didn't think she could handle it.

But he wasn't Fred. He was George. Her friend George. She'd never had a problem distinguishing between them before, but now…

It wasn't fair to George, though. He was the one who had to look at himself in the mirror every day. A constant reminder of what he'd lost – what they'd all lost.

George was her friend and she owed it to him so go see him…

No, she owed it to Fred.

The apartment was dark, but she could see him sitting on the couch. Just sitting, staring at nothing. It was just his silhouette but, for some reason, her heart still sped up as her breathing grew shallow.

Moving and sitting to his right, Angelina stared ahead at nothing as well, her discomfort growing by the minute. She was afraid to look at him. Afraid of what she might see…of who she might see.

"Hey George," she whispered, still not looking over.

He didn't say anything.

She was going to have to look at him. Merlin, she was going to have to look at him! Do something.

Like her head were filled with lead, she slowly began to turn. Slowly, slowly, tears forming in her eyes at what she was about to see-

-and then she burst out laughing.

George's stoic face crumbled slightly as his eyes clouded with confusion.

"I.." Angelina gasped between hysterical laughs. "I'd forgotten!" More laughs. "About the ear!"

George just studied her. Slowly, he smiled as well.

"Thought I might look like Fred here, did you?" he asked quietly.

Angelina's laughter died down as she looked at George's sad smile. She nodded, looking down at her hands.

"I do it too," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Every time I see my reflection. I find myself staring at the hole in my head…reminding myself that…"

He trialed off, but Angelina didn't need him to finish. Glancing up once more, she gently moved her hand to where his ear used to be.

"It's kind of ironic," he said, looking ahead at nothing again, apparently not even noticing that she was touching him. "This hole in my head—"

"And you're not anymore," Angelina finished for him, pulling her hand back down.

He nodded.

She nodded.

"Sometimes I feel like there's a hole in my heart," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. He just nodded again. She glanced over at him, placing her hand on his. "We'll get through this."

More nodding. More staring.

Here they were. Two hole-filled people, broken and incomplete.

She didn't think two halves made a whole. Neither of them would ever be whole again.

But it was a start.


	17. 39 Candy

**A/N: I hope you guys are ready for some pretty light and happy ones, cause I'm in a light and happy mood :)**

Candy

The identical red-headed third years crouched by the staircase that lead to their dorm, both holding back laughter. As people passed, they looked at them oddly, but no one stopped to comment. They were, after all, the Weasley twins.

"This will be perfect," Fred whispered to George, rubbing his hands together.

"I know! Lee is going to be in our debt forever."

"Until the potion wears off."

"Of course."

"Then he'll kill us."

"But until then…" George trailed off, looking at his bother, raising his eyebrows up and down. Fred nodded.

The Fat Lady opened just on time and Angelina Johnson came gliding through. She looked around, then spotted Lee sitting by himself by the fireplace. A smile crept across her face as she made her way over to him.

Fred and George leaned forward, eager to hear the exchange that was about to happen.

Angelina walked up behind Lee and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. "Thanks for the chocolates, Lee! That was so nice of you!"

Lee sat up straight his eyes wide in disbelief. He turned slightly so he was facing Angelina. "Ch-Chocolates?" he stammered like the love sick school boy he was.

Angelina nodded. "There was something about them. Something almost…magical."

Fred started snickering, but George slapped him to shut him up.

"Would you like to go on a walk with me?" she asked Lee, standing up.

Lee nodded, still looking slightly dumbfounded. When Angelina took his arm, a dreamy smile crossed his face as the two made their way to the portrait.

Once they were gone, Fred and George jumped up from the spying spot, whopping and hollering at one of their best pranks ever. They were so loud, in fact, they didn't hear the portrait open again.

"Excuse me?" Angelina's voice rang out in the midst of their celebration. They both froze, turning to her. She held up a small plastic bag which contained half a dozen very familiar looking chocolates. "I believe these are yours?"

Fred and George stared at her, then at each other, then back at her.

Fred spoke first. "You mean you didn't—"

"No."

George spoke next. "So you actually—"

Angelina cut him off by thrusting the chocolates in his face. With a smug smile, she spun on her heel and went back out to the hallway.

They stood, frozen, before George finally spoke.

"Blimey, Fred! What have we done?'

Fred shook his head, then looked back at his brother. His eyes drifted to the bag in his hand. "Do you think she'd notice if we—"

"I don't think there's enough love potion in these to make Angelina even _think_ nice thoughts about you."

Fred nodded, turning back to the portrait. George's glance slipped down to the bag in his hand.

No, not nice thoughts about _Fred._

But maybe...

**End Note: I just love the idea of Angelina spoiling the twins pranks! In my mind, she's as feisty about life as she is about Quidditch. I love reviews – I'm almost to 100! That would totally make my summer!**


	18. 21 Hazard

**A/N: Sorry about the delay! Writer's block is a horrible, ugly, nasty bugger and I'm trudging my way through it.**

**In all the fics I've read, Verity is either a jealous little minx trying to land a Weasley or she is dead. Well, in my happy-go-luck monkeyface kind of way, I decided to make her a little more likeable. I hope you like it!**

Hazard

If he wasn't such a nice guy, he would kill her.

"Verity," George sighed, leaning his head against the door with his eyes closed.

"S-Sorry, Mr. Weasley," the girl stuttered from the other side, her voice muffled.

He blamed Fred. Fred wanted to hire her, give her a chance. Fred insisted they keep her on after she exploded the register with one of their own devices, spent an entire weekend giving people 500 percent off (how the math worked on that, he still didn't know, but it hadn't been pretty) and she'd released the pygmy puffs more times than he could count.

"You're _certain_ you don't have the key?" he asked, stroking the door pathetically.

"I-I know it's got to be around here somewhere. We just sent that order to Fiji. Maybe it got put in a box."

George sighed again, but was cut off by a snicker. Turning, he glared at Angelina.

"Think this is funny, do you?"

Her response was to cover her mouth, but there was no denying the laughter in her eyes.

"We could die in here, you know."

"Why don't we just apparate out?"

George closed his eyes once more, leaning his head back against the door. "Fred and I designed the laboratory so that no one could apparate in or out, like Hogwarts. We didn't want anyone to steal our experiments. When the door gets locked, it can only be opened with a key-"

"Which you don't have," Angelina finished, smiling.

George looked at her. "That girl will be the death of me. I should have Verity Hazard Insurance."

"And you're too nice of a guy to fire her?"

George just shook his head.

"M-Mr. Weasley?" came Verity's muffled voice again.

Standing up straight, George leaned toward the door eagerly. "Did you find it?"

"No, but your brother Ron says he still has his copy and will come as soon as he can."

George clapped. "Brilliant! When will he get here?"

"Well, he said the first time he could get away is tomorrow morning."

Shoulder's sagging, he spun around and faced Angelina, disbelief etched on his face. All he'd wanted to do was show her some of the things he'd been working on. They were just getting to the point where they could be together and not cry about Fred. Now this.

"Well," Angelina said, raising an eyebrow as she sat on the floor, "we used to talk for hours, George." She smiled, patting the ground next to her.

Smiling slightly, George walked away from the door and sat down next to her.

On the other side of the door, Verity stood with her ear to the wood. As she listened to George walk away, she stood back and smiled, swinging a small silver key attached to a ring attached to a lanyard she always kept around her neck.

This ought to make up for the pygmy puffs.


	19. 27 Polish

**A/N: Argh! Still struggling with the writer's block of death, so again I am soooo sorry for the long wait and I really hope people are still reading this because, well, one of these days inspiration is going to knock me over the head, sweep me off my feet, and finish up these 50 fics!!**

**On that note…**

Polish

"Angelina Johnson, are you cramming? I thought you too high and mighty for that."

Angelina turned, fighting a smile at the sight of her new friend, George Weasley, sneaking into the Common Room.

"Where's Fred?"

That stopped George in his tracks. "He's…um, he's just out…taking care of something."

Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the letter she was penning, trying not to image what the Weasley twins were up to so late. She heard George walk over to her side and felt him peer over her shoulder.

"Love note, eh? Some bloke back home?"

Swatting at him, she just frowned. "If you must know, it's a letter to my mum."

"A letter to your mum keeping you up so late? What did you do that you're hoping you won't get caught? I'm great at excuses."

"No," she chuckled, watching as he sat beside her. "She wants to know how my first few months at Hogwarts have been."

George raised his red eyebrows.

"That all?"

Angelina shrugged, twirling her quill between her fingers. "I don't know what to say. If all I do is describe my classes and my friends and all that. It's all so…dull."

George propped his red head up on his hand, sighing. "Angelina, don't you know mum's love that kind of stuff."

"They do?"

"Sure. It's not like they expect every day to be an adventure. They like to hear about the little things that make your days what they are. You know, the things that make you smile and all that."

Biting her lip, Angelina stared back at her parchment. "Things that make me smile?" she whispered.

"Yeah," George continued. "Just stuff that happens during the day, the things you do, people you talk to that make being here worth being here."

Angelina looked over at George and smiled. George smiled back. She couldn't deny the slight flutter in her stomach. "And this works with your mum?"

"Wouldn't know," George said, standing up. "Never wrote her a letter. But it sounded good, didn't it?"

He was already running away before she could hit him.

Once Angelina was alone again, she looked back at the parchment. Smiling, she began to polish her letter.

_Have I told you about the Weasley twins?_

**End Note: This was assuming the prompt wasn't 'Polish' like the nationality. What did you think? Pretty pretty please review!!**


	20. 45 Offering

**A/N: Two in one night! Woo-hoo!!**

**This one connects to "Hat" so, if you don't remember it, you might want to refresh.**

Offering

Knocking on the door to George's flat, Angelina adjusted the parcel in her arms. When he finally opened the door, she watched as his face transformed from shocked to cautious. Not waiting for him to speak, she held out the parcel.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice flat.

"Open and see," she replied, trying not to be nervous. He'd been avoiding her since last week's lunch and she hoped this would make up for it.

Looking tired, George took the box from her hands and opened it. A small smile crept to his face. Pulling out the beige fedora, he placed it on his head.

"Suits you," she said.

"You think?" he asked, tugging it slightly to the right.

"If anyone can pull off a hat, George Weasley, it's you."

He chuckled and she laughed along with him.

"Listen," she said, once the laughter died down. "I'm sorry, about earlier. I wasn't trying to be rude or…" she trailed off as George's smile faded and his eyes turned to the ground. Desperate to be on good terms again, she attempted to lighten the mood. "Anyway, I think you're supposed to wear these a little further down." She reached up for the hat, only to have George violently jerk away.

"Stop it," he growled, his eyes angry and sad all at once.

"But George, I'm—"

"I'm _not_ Fred!"

Gasping, Angelina took a step back. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just…just stop being so…" George shook his head, looking like he didn't know what to say. With a frustrated sigh, he ripped off the hat, shoving it in her arms. "I've got to go," he mumbled before slamming the door in her face.

Tears in her eyes, Angelina stared at the closed door, clutching the crushed hat to her chest.

What had he meant? Because she bought him the hat? Because she'd told him to get a haircut? Because she offered to do it herself, just like she had…

With that last thought, a tear slid down her dark cheek.

How could she have been so stupid?

Walking slowly down the stairs, Angelina wondered how she could prove to George that she didn't think of him as a replacement Fred. He was George. He'd always been George.

At the foot of the stair she paused, a strange thought crossing her mind.

Fred used to always love when Angelina ran her fingers through his hair, almost as much as she did.

Did George feel the same way?

Did she?

What was more disturbing:

Pretending it was Fred?

Or flirting with George?

**End Note: Raise your hand if you think George would look quite dashing in a fedora!**


	21. 26 Notify

**A/N: Uh-oh, **_**three**_** in one night? I must be on something.**

**This one is to help with that nagging, gut-wrenching feeling that comes when you wonder why, if Fred and/or George are so crazy about Angelina, would they hook up with the veelas in DH? Here's my remedy…**

Notify

_Smack!_

"Ouch!" George yelled, grabbing and rubbing his head. He and Fred looked up to see an irate Angelina hovering over them. "Bloody hell, Angelina! What did you do that for?" George asked, frowning as he rubbed his head.

"What did you have to go and break my best friend's heart for?" Angelina bit back.

Eyes wide, George turned to Fred, who was suddenly very interested in his shoes.

"What are you talking ab—" Another hard smack to the head cut him off.

"Don't play dumb with me, George Weasley. You know exactly what I'm talking about! You and that veela slut of yours!"

Feeling his face heat, George gestured toward his brother. "Shouldn't you be smacking your ex-boyfriend over there? He was—"

"We were broken up at the time," Fred mumbled, looking up, scared, at Angelina.

But her angry eyes remained fixed on George. "And at least he had the guts to tell me about it, saying he made a mistake. I didn't have to find out from someone else! The least you could have done was told her!"

When she raised her hand again, Fred flinched, but George was too busy staring at his brother to react. With an angry growl, Angelina spun and left.

"Broken up…at the time?" George finally said once she was gone.

"Yeah." Fred smiled. "We're back together."

"And you didn't think to notify me?" George asked, dread welling up inside.

Fred shrugged. "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"You mean she…even after you…"

Fred shrugged again. "I came crawling, she took me back. I'm just glad she didn't decide to go out with anyone else."

Head pounding, George covered his face.

"Cheer up, George," he heard Fred say as he slapped him on the back. "Talk to Alicia. She'll forgive you."

But George just shook his head. "I don't _want_ her forgiveness."

"What do you want, then?"

Shoulders sagging, George let his head flop to the table, feeling the window of opportunity slam shut in his face. "It doesn't matter," he sighed.

**End Note: Hey, that beginning is kind of familiar…**

**Oh, it's been so long...kind read, would you please review?**


	22. 18 Fly

**A/N: Much love to **_**Edinburgh Love**_**, my new fanfic BF whose heart for Fred/Angelina/George I totally love. And to **_**Goddessofyouth, Passionate With a Pencil, LiliaGriffindor'sHeir376, Aurora West, **_**and**_** mochaloca85**_** who continue to read, review, and help me keep writing!**

Fly

Flying always felt better in the cold.

It's like the air is alive, buzzing in your ears, biting at your nose. Somehow seeping into your insides, taking over.

Trees rushed around him so quickly, he didn't have time to think about how dead they looked. Time to wonder when spring turned to summer, summer to fall, and fall to winter. To count the months, days, minutes since it happened.

The cold filled his lungs, making breathing hard. The extra effort, the stinging with each breath, the push of adrenaline as he tried to go faster and faster made him smile.

By the time he reached the clearing, George felt light headed and exhilarated. A few meters ahead, Angelina hovered, staring in his direction.

"You're not making this much of a challenge, Weasley. That's three times in a row."

Flying to her, he stopped just shy of knocking her off her broom. Her dark skin hid the redness he was certain covered his own face, but the clouds puffing from her mouth told him she was as out of breath and alive as he was.

"You know, Ron always let's me win."

"I'm not Ron, am I?"

"Ginny too."

"No red hair. I'm not a Weasley."

"Lee too."

Angelina paused. "Do they think it will make you feel better?"

"I guess so."

"And does it?"

George paused, smirking. "Why do you think I'm out here with you?"

Angelina smiled. "Best five out of seven then."

Before George could respond, she took off back through the woods to their starting line. Shaking his head, he couldn't help but feel as though Fred had rubbed off on her just a little bit.


	23. 38 Fame

Fame

"You'll never believe whose here," Fred gushed, slamming into their car and landing on Angelina's lap.

"Get off," she shouted, shoving him to the floor. George flew in, helping his brother up. Alicia and Lee just laughed at the whole exchange.

"You'll never believe whose here," George said as he and Fred sat on opposite sides of Lee.

"You're a bit late there, mate," Lee told him.

"Out with it already!" Angelina demanded.

"Harry Potter!" the twins said simultaneously, eyes wild and wide.

"No way," Alicia gasped. "Are you sure?"

"We saw him ourselves—"

"Helped him with his trunk."

"He's sitting with Ron—"

"Scar and everything."

Lee and Alicia rapid fired questions toward the twins, but Angelina simply studied them. Over the years, she'd become rather good at reading the dynamic duo, better able to predict when they were lying or pulling a good prank.

"You're telling us," Angelina finally spoke up, bringing silence to the compartment and everyone's eyes to her, "that the boy who lived, the one we fell asleep hearing stories about, _the_ Harry Potter, is on the train to Hogwarts hanging out with a _Weasley_?"

Fred and George glared, bringing laughter from everyone else.

"Get off it, Johnson," Fred said, grinning wickedly.

"Yeah, you know this red hair—"

"Is irresistible," they finished together.

Alicia laughed so hard, she fell out of her seat. Helping her up with a smile, Angelina glanced back at the twins.

Fred lifted his eyebrows up and down with a grin.

George winked.

It was the first time since knowing them that Angelina saw them do something different. And, with the confused look they gave each other, she wondered if maybe it was the first time they'd seen that too.

Potter, schmotter – _that_ was worthy of fame.


	24. 3 Fifteen

**A/N: Yup, I know. Long wait. I'm done apologizing. Let's face the facts - I'm slow. But I hope you still enjoy!**

Fifteen

Fifteen steps.

How could something so small, so simple, so ordinary, suddenly seem so insurmountable? So overwhelming?

So bloody scary?

Fifteen steps.

That was all. So worn and creaky. The second one up squeaks like a scared house elf. The eighth one has a loose nail that George always says he will get to, but never does. And at the top…

Fifteen little steps.

Yet they might as well be a mountain.

They were friends. Friends spent time together, did things together. They went out for lunch and drinks, watched Quidditch and played pranks. They talked, laughed, and lived with a complete and total sense of comfort and affection.

As friends.

So why did those fifteen steps leading up to his flat suddenly feel like so much more?

He'd asked if she wanted to grab some dinner, just like always. She'd said yes, just like always.

But now, at that moment, it was different.

Fifteen steps. Fifteen heart pounding, palm sweating, nerve racking, life changing steps.

Because, for the first time, she stood there not at the bottom of Fred and George's flat.

It was George's flat.

It was George.

Clenching her fists at her side, Angelina took a breath, took a step, and knew that nothing would ever be the same.


End file.
